


to wed and behead

by acidtowns



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 08:53:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15336291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acidtowns/pseuds/acidtowns
Summary: What do you do when your kingdom’s about to go bankrupt? Crossdress as a princess so you can marry a rich prince, of course. That’s obviously the most logical way to go about this, according to his parents. And to make matters worse, the rich prince is a teeny tiny, insufferably irritable, completely constipated asshole. Someone help him,please.*DISCONTINUED: I am only cross-posting this for archives*





	1. Chapter 1

“Your hair looks fake.” That’s the first thing Prince Levi says to him. The second thing is this: “I thought I was supposed to marry a woman, not a little girl.” And  _wow_ , what an asshole. For someone crowned as Prince Charming, he isn’t exactly charming. Eren doesn’t know what his parents were thinking when they set him up with this douchebag. Oh wait, that’s a lie. He does know.

“We’re going bankrupt,” his father told him one day. “If we don’t gain financial stability soon, we’ll lose our kingdom.” Eren was eighteen at the time, and he had no clue why his father was telling him this, because last he checked, he didn’t have to worry about his financial statement until he was old and balding. “Your mother and I have thought long and hard about this, and we’ve come to an agreement on how we can save our kingdom.” And that was when Eren was dragged into this whole mess.

“You’re eighteen now,” his father continued to tell him. “It’s about time for you to get married.” And that was the beginning of trouble. “We’re thinking about setting up an arrangement between you and another heir. Only problem is –” His parents shared a look, and at that moment, Eren knew that he was incredibly fucked in more ways than one. “– every other kingdom has a son.”

Eren wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly where this was going, and he totally booked it, because he’d much rather be poor than someone’s wife. Eventually he was caught, found, and brought back to face his parents, and he knew he was beyond incredibly fucked when they got down on their knees and begged him because this kingdom had been theirs and their grandparents and their great-grandparents. Not to mention, if they fell, then their people would fall too. He didn’t know why his parents couldn’t think of any other solution – maybe they could fire a few maids here and there – but they insisted, and well, how could he refuse his parents when all they’ve ever done was be good to him? It was but one request.

That’s how he got into this mess – this mess being an ugly wig, an ugly dress, and ten pounds of unsolicited makeup. So when Prince Asshole said his hair looked fake, he’s not wrong. But the “little girl” line is completely uncalled for, and in all honesty, remarkably rude. He doesn’t understand why his parents chose this prince specifically – but oh wait, that’s another lie. He does understand: Prince Levi’s kingdom is apparently the richest, and if he’s to deceive any kingdom, he’s got to aim for the highest. They’re going to get beheaded. He just knows it.

After all, it’s clear that his parents didn’t think through this. What if this Prince Levi guy wants sex? What if he wants an heir? What will Eren do then? Let Prince Levi go down on him and then surprise him by slapping his face with his boner? (Speaking figuratively, of course; he wouldn’t get hard for this constipated cockroach even if he were to try.) That’s a funny thought until he remembers the consequence of treachery is punishable by death in all states.

“Be nice, Levi,” the king says after moments of nervous laughter from both queens. “Greet your fiancée properly.”

Eren wants to roll his eyes but proper ladies don’t do that (he went through three months of princess training for this, so he’s not going to fuck it up now). That doesn’t stop Prince Asshole from rolling his eyes, though. And wow, just  _wow_. What a bastard son of a bitch. Eren has to tolerate  _this_  little fuckfrog for the rest of his life. He’ll be lucky to be beheaded.

He tries to smile. He really tries to, because he can’t say anything since he’s supposed to be mute (his mother’s idea). Levi doesn’t return the smile; he just reaches over and takes his hand (Eren realizes then that Levi’s hands are calloused – probably the result from jerking off too much,  _ha ha_ ). After a brief moment of contemplation that Eren can clearly see in his eyes, Levi bends down and presses his lips against the back of Eren’s hand. Then, without moving, he peers up and lets the corner of his mouth quirk into a slight smirk. “Pleased to meet you,  _Your Highness_.”

Suddenly Eren understands why this asshole’s dubbed Prince Charming, because wow,  _okay_ , maybe he’s a grade A asshole, but he can sure charm the pants off of anyone.

“Your son is just lovely,” Eren hears his mother coo to the other queen.

“Your daughter as well.”

That’s his cue. When Levi lets go of his hand, Eren sweeps into a curtsy (something that took him weeks to master, because he had no sense of balance). Once he straightens back up, he looks for approval, and while most aren’t phased by his friendly gesture, Levi eyes him oddly. Though the eyeing makes Eren feel self-conscious of his curtsy, he eventually brushes the nervous thought aside and holds his head high. He didn’t beat his ass with princess lessons for nothing.

“Come,” the queen says, “you all must be starving after such a long trip. Erd, Gunther, take their coats.” As two men move in to retrieve their outerwear, the queen continues, “Dinner will be served shortly. Shall we?” She nods at Levi, and on cue, Levi shifts over to Eren and extends an arm to him.

Eren wants to laugh. From a distance, Levi’s already short, but when he’s standing right next to him, he looks even shorter. Eren wants to blame the heels he’s wearing (two inches, that’s all he can take because again, his balance is shit), but he’s certain there’s more than a two-inches difference between them. Dismissing the funny image, he curls his fingers around Levi’s arm and lets Levi guide him to whatever hell that’s in store.

Both kings and queens walk ahead, chatting merrily of their engagement and what’s to come. Every now and then, he would hear his mother gush about the interior design of this palace (which is remarkable, if Eren has to say so himself – everything’s carved to perfection and bordered with gold). In turn, the king would boast about the artists who spent years detailing the fine architecture of this place.

Somewhere along there, Eren starts tuning out, but he’s quickly brought back to reality when he hears Levi mutter something.

“I know your secret.”

Hold up.

_What_?

Eren almost wishes his parents hadn’t walked so far ahead, because he’s about to have a heart attack right here. There’s no way Levi has already figured him out. There’s just  _no way_.

“You’re wearing makeup and a wig to cover up your imperfections,” Levi continues to say. “Under all of that, you’re actually hideous.”

_Fucking incredible_. Eren can’t think of a more appropriate response to that. This Prince Levi guy is truly fucking incredible.


	2. Chapter 2

Levi prides himself in knowing people without actually getting to know them. They’re easy for him to understand, because everyone is the same. They like fascinating things like money and beauty and using money to make beauty and using beauty to make money. They hate boring things like having no money and being ugly. Although this concept pertains to pretty much everyone, it especially applies to people with royal bloodlines. Being rich and beautiful is everything in the success handbook, so when he sees Princess Ellen for the first time, he calls bullshit, because there’s no fucking way someone  _this_ attractive has been unheard of until now.

Granted, he doesn’t know every kingdom’s business, but he’s sure that if there are any hot princesses, he would be the first to know (being the richest prince and all). So there’s no way this Princess Ellen is authentic. Just look at her hair: rich brown, long, and straighter than his sexuality. Clearly it’s fake, because he has seen long, straight hair before, and it’s not that perfect. Not to mention, she looks like a fifteen-year-old girl, even though his father said she’s nineteen. Ha. Nineteen,  _his ass_.

He doesn’t know what the hell his father’s thinking, wedding him off to some teenager. Wait. No. Scratch that. He doesn’t know what the hell his father’s thinking, arranging a marriage for him without his consent. He has been introduced to numerous princesses (all of which are married now), and has been through more balls than he has licked, and not once has he showed interest in one of them. By now, he assumed his father would’ve caught on – but no, his father wasn’t even remotely close to catching on.

“Levi, you’re turning twenty-five this year,” his father said once. “Your mother and I don’t want to rush you into marriage, but it’s time to settle down.” (“ _I want a grandbaby_ ,” his mother murmured.) “We’ve noticed how you rarely approach princesses at formal gatherings, so we’ve concluded that beautiful women make you shy.” Levi wanted to throttle his father right then and there, but before he could, his father continued to say, “Since you’re running out of time, your mother and I have decided to arrange a marriage with a gorgeous princess for you.” (“ _I want to see my grandbaby_ ,” his mother murmured again.) “We went ahead and arranged this, so you wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of courting a bride yourself. Consider it a favor.”

And at that point, Levi started to argue, because what else was he supposed to do? Sit there and take this up the ass?  _Hell no_. First of all, he was top; and secondly, when the everliving fuck did his parents think this was an okay thing to do?

He was silenced by his father’s raised hand. “We’re only doing this because it’s the best for you and our kingdom. Besides, if we don’t accept this kingdom’s offer, then you’ll have to wait fifteen more years for the next princess –”

“Which means I have to wait  _fifteen more years_  for my grandbaby,” his mother completed, lips pursed in obvious disapproval. Levi couldn’t believe this – couldn’t believe his mother, his father, and just overall how dense they were. They called him shy. That’s the joke of the century. Him, Prince Levi,  _shy_. Fucking amazing. Truly remarkable. A+ conclusion.

So that’s how he got here, to the very position of sitting next to Princess Ellen and acting like he’s fine and dandy. He doesn’t know how he’s going to break it to his father that he’s completely and wholeheartedly wrong with his assumption, and he doesn’t know how he’s going to break it to his mother that she’s not going to get a grandbaby anytime soon, because dammit, it’s just – he’s just –

God help him, he likes sucking cock.

There.

“Would you like more ham, sir?”

No, he would like more wiener.  _Thanks_.

“Just a small slice,” he replies, and on cue, his butler cuts him a small slice and places it on his plate, which is almost clear of food because he’s been shoving food down his throat to avoid any questions from either parents.

“And for you, ma'am?”

Princess Ellen nods and offers his butler a small smile of thanks. Levi wants to roll his eyes again, because he knows she’s not mute. She’s just hiding the fact that she sounds like an ogre in addition to looking like one under all that makeup. Really, he should have her and her parents beheaded for lying.

“So, Ellen, your mother here tells me you’re an excellent ballroom dancer.”  _Oh, no_. Levi knows where this is going. Don’t get him wrong, he loves his mother dearly, but when she has that overly sweet tone, it means trouble on his end. “My Levi is rather clumsy on his feet, so perhaps, after dinner, you can show him your expertise?”

Ellen’s eyes go wide. Her reaction kinda reminds him of how wide his eyes got when he saw one of his old maids naked that one time. It was an accident and – oh, fuck. Oh, no. The nasty image is coming back and suddenly his ham tastes like old lady and  _gross gross gross_  –

“Stop making that face, Levi,” his mother says curtly. “I know you don’t like dancing, but it won’t hurt to try. After all –” She straightens up and smiles. “– you’ll have the first dance at your wedding ceremony. It’s tradition.” She turns back to Ellen. “Please excuse his behavior. He’s feeling a bit under the weather. It must be because he’s intimidated by your beauty.”

Okay, he wasn’t feeling “under the weather” before, but he’s feeling it now. His mother has got to be kidding him. Can’t she see how fake this Princess Ellen is? And to prove his point, Ellen’s body is trembling with silent laughter and what the fuck, that’s the fakest shit he’s seen in a while. How is his mother this dense? – Then again, she and his father pinned him as shy, so they’re just both horrible at interpretation.

“So how about it? A dance after dinner?” his mother continues to press, and though Ellen’s sitting a good feet away from him, Levi can tell she’s feeling uncomfortable. But let’s be honest, anyone would feel uncomfortable if some queen is giving them a toothy smile.

Ellen nods, nonetheless, and Levi just knows he’s going to fuck everything up because, if his mother is right about anything, she’s completely on point with him being clumsy on his feet. Generally, he’s good with actions such as running and walking, but when it comes to dancing, he’s just plain bad. He won’t even deny it. Of course, he has had his fair share of dancing lessons, but all the teachers he’s had either 1) wore too much perfume, or 2) tried too hard to impress him and ended up tripping over their own feet.

Useless bunch. All of them.

“Then it’s settled!” His mother clasps her hand together and stands. “Let us dance.”

“Sit down, mother,” he says. Usually he wouldn’t say something, but she’s being downright rude, and it’s embarrassing him. “Ellen hasn’t finished eating.” True to his words, Ellen’s still chewing on her third slice of ham. He doesn’t know how the flying fuck someone that small can eat that much, but okay, whatever.

Just as he says that, though, Ellen swallows and puts her fork down. After dabbing her mouth clean of food, she stands and nods at his mother.

Wow.

What a way to say “fuck you.”

Now  _he_ ’s the one embarrassed.

She couldn’t have taken another bite? Or at least finished off her slice of ham? Damn. Wasteful bitch.

“Well, it looks like she’s done now,” his mother says, eyeing him in a manner that clearly says  _that’s what you get for trying to embarrass me in front of our guests_. “Shall we head to the ballroom?”

Levi wants to set himself on fire, but the sharp look his mother’s throwing his way is already burning him. So with much reluctance, he rises to his feet and offers an arm to Ellen. He then tries to ignore the other king and queen’s shared look of concern. Who do they think he is? He might be horrible at dancing, but he’s got this. They don’t need to worry about him. The worst he’s done is send someone to the infirmary after he tripped over their dress and elbowed their face on the way down.

All right, so  _maybe_  that’s pretty bad, but it’s their fault for wearing a long-ass gown in the first place.

He leads Ellen to the ballroom, tells her “don’t get in my way,” then proceeds to offer his hand. From the side, his parents look on with approval.

The music provided by their talented butler starts, and with his oh-so charming smile (aka the smile that got him laid once), Levi asks, “May I have your hand down my pants?”

– Wait.

What the fuck.

Freudian slip.

“I mean, may I have your hand  _for the next dance_?”

How the hell did he manage to fuck up this much? Now Ellen’s going to think he’s some pervert. Fuck his life.


	3. Chapter 3

Let’s get one thing straight here: Eren Jaeger cannot dance. Eren Jaeger can moonwalk, Eren Jaeger can dougie, and  _godforbid_ , Eren Jaeger can twerk, but Eren Jaeger absolutely can _not_  dance. So riddle him this, who the hell told his mother that he could? Who was sadistic enough to plant that stupid idea in his mother’s head? This is only going to end badly because 1) he’s in two-inch high heels and 2) again, he has the shittiest balance. If falling were a type of dance, he wouldn’t have any trouble. Unfortunately, it’s not a type of dance.

Seriously, who is his mother trying to impress? The queen? Prince Levi? Shit, Levi’s already impressed by how many slices of ham Eren could shove down his throat in an hour – which is a mistake on Eren’s part, by the way. He’s supposed to eat half his usual portion, because apparently his usual portion isn’t lady-like enough, but what else was he supposed to do? Starve? He didn’t get up at the asscrack of dawn and travel ten hours just to have one slice of ham and whipped potatoes, okay. He’s a grown man, and if he hadn’t fed his stomach, his stomach would’ve had fed on him. Besides, what’s the big deal? It’s free food. Free  _good_  food.

Free good food that he’s about to puke up, because he knows he’s going to fall flat on his face while attempting to dance. If this were any other scenario, he would be twerking on Prince Levi right now, but in this nicely designed ballroom that’s filled with rich violin music and even richer parents, twerking may not be the best idea. Maybe he can start jerking. Prince Levi wouldn’t mind that – asking him if he could have Eren’s hand down his pants.  _Excuse him_. Eren Jaeger doesn’t do voyeurism.

Besides, his heels are probably bigger than Prince Levi’s dongle, so there wouldn’t be anything to jerk (not that he would jerk the jerk off – that’s just gross and completely wrong and he’s not ready for this level of commitment yet, despite him getting married in approximately two months).

He accepts Levi’s hand and tries so hard to ignore the thought of Levi using this very hand to jerk himself off because that’s obviously what Levi’s mind is on, and now that’s what Eren’s mind is on, and goddammit, why can’t he marry a normal prince? His parents could’ve chosen a handsome hulk for him, but no, they chose a dejected toad. This is literally like the fairy tale  _The Princess and the Frog_  – except he’s not actually a princess, and kissing this asshole wouldn’t make him any less of an asshole.

Not that he wants to kiss him either. Even though they’re kinda in a position to kiss – being this close and not moving and all. They’re just looking at each other. It’s been a minute since he accepted the offer, and they haven’t moved anywhere. Eren really has no place to complain, because he’s perfectly fine just standing here and looking nice, but from the looks his parents (in addition to Levi’s parents) are giving him, he knows he’s not going to get away from this.

So he takes the first step, which fucks up everything he has learned about dancing. Yes, during those three months, he had learned how to hold himself during a waltz or whatever, but he had learned the princess parts – in other words, he’s not supposed to be the one leading here. But since Prince Levi doesn’t have any balls to lead, Eren leads. Or tries to lead. Which is hard as shit, because he sucks at dancing and Levi sucks at dancing. What makes it worse is that, at some point, for some reason, Levi decides to lead, and it’s just  _so bad_  that Eren doesn’t know whether he wants to laugh or cry.

But holy shitballs, when Levi raises their joined hands, Eren knows exactly what  _he_  has to do. That gesture and that stance means  _twirl_. And well, here’s the problem: Levi’s fucking short as fuck, so when Eren goes to twirl, he has to slightly duck under Levi’s extended arm, and half-way through the turn, Levi’s already pulling him back, and everything goes down from there. Literally. He falls ( _it’s all that bastard’s fault_ ), and though he’s sure Prince Charming tries to catch him, Prince Charming ends up stepping on his dress instead, and in turn, they both fall.

Eren is done. So fucking done. He doesn’t bother getting up from his fallen position, not even when his parents rush to his side to aid him. He is just so done with everything – and whatever’s poking into his back isn’t helping at all. And he doesn’t know if that’s Levi’s elbow or Levi’s boner. Whatever it is, Eren doesn’t care, because he’s finished. Someone behead him.  _Please_.

“Isn’t that adorable?” the queen cooes as she leans over them. “They’re already falling for each other.”

 _Shut the fuck up, lady_.

Now’s not the time to make puns.

“Are you all right, Ellen?” his mother (obviously the more sensible queen here) asks while his father extends a hand to help him up. “Does anything hurt?”

He takes his father’s hand, and with much difficult and hip thrusting (getting up from a fall was  _not_  a part of the three-months princess lessons he took), he manages to get back on his feet. After brushing the Levi-cooties off of him, he turns to his mother and shakes his head, indicating that nothing hurts aside from what little faith he had in his dance partner.

Levi, on the other hand, takes his sweet-ass time getting up while grumbling something about how heavy Eren is (fuck him, fuck him very much). This all happens while both kings are making light of this awful situation.

“I apologize on the behalf of my son’s skill.”

“No, no. It’s all right. My daughter must be tired from the day’s travel.”

“Should we retire for the night? We can tour the castle tomorrow.”

“That would be wonderful.”

On the flip side, the queens are just –

“My Levi swept your Ellen off her feet, didn’t he?”

“He did, what a charming young man you have.”

Eren purposely turns away to roll his eyes. Unfortunately, he turns towards Levi, and apparently that’s a wrong move, because Levi’s giving him the dirtiest look, and really?  _Really_? Is this asshole blaming him for the fall? Eren can’t believe this.  _He_  was the one doing everything right.  _He_  was the one who actually knew what he was doing (somewhat), and yet this asshole thinks  _he_ ’s at fault? Wow. Just. Wow. First, Levi calls him fake, and then he blames him for something that’s obviously not his fault. What a wonderful impression Levi is giving him.

Maybe his parents will reconsider this whole marriage thing now that they’ve seen just how much of a douchebag this Prince Levi is.

“They make the perfect couple,” the queen chides.

“They do,” his mother agrees.

Nevermind, then.

To the side, the king turns to one of the servants loitering about. “Petra, can you show our guests to their room? And Levi, apologize.”

 _About time_.

Levi eyes Eren warily, then says, “Sorry you’re too slow to keep up with me.”

Eren wants to punch the guy, but that’s not lady-like. Maybe a hard slap will suffice. Or a harsh kick to the nuts (oh wait, that wouldn’t hurt him, because Levi has no balls).

“ _Levi_ ,” the king stresses, brow creased with dissatisfaction. Eren wants to thank him, because at least someone in this goddamn room noticed Levi’s assholery.

Seriously, though. Aren’t princes supposed to be better than this? Guess fame and money really do get to people’s heads.

Levi stares him down for a moment, then with rigid posture, lowers himself into a small bow. “My bad,” he says before quickly straightening up. “Erd, prepare my bath.”

Wow.

What a heartfelt apology.

As the servant ducks out, Eren watches Levi make his rounds bidding good nights to their parents. When he finally comes over to him, Eren feels his cheeks heat up – not because he’s embarrassed, but because he’s trying so hard not to knee the asshole in the face while the asshole’s kissing his hand. Really, he’s trying, but Levi doesn’t make resisting temptation easy, because after he draws up, he says, “Go get some beauty sleep, Princess. You need it.” And if Levi didn’t pull away right then, Eren would’ve slapped him so hard, his ancestors would’ve felt it.

The meet and greet concludes on that note. Petra escorts him and his parents to their respective bedrooms. Shows them around. Asks them if they would like her to prepare a bath. While he respectfully declines, his parents accepts. As luck would have it, Petra goes off with them, and with that, Eren’s left in the comforts of his own room – which is  _huge_  for a guest room. The ones back at his place are only half the size of these. And their bathrooms –  _holy shit_. He has never seen something so extravagant. Gold bordered mirrors, crystal bathtubs, and is that a sauna? Yes. Yes, it is.

So, looking on the bright side of things, he’s getting married to an asshole, but at least that asshole’s kingdom has saunas in their bathrooms. They also have good food. Food and sauna. That’s all he needs in life. He can get rid of his  _dear husband_  later.

Night falls, and midnight comes about. He steps out of the sauna feeling relaxed all over. But then he sees his wig and his dress, and he feels like punching something. Levi’s face preferably. In the end, he doesn’t punch anything; he takes his frustration out by putting on his own clothes (“comfortable night wear”) and modeling in front of the mirror to ensure his masculinity. After a while, he gives that up and goes to bed.

Or at least, he tries to. In the midst of drifting off, he hears a distance shout that draws him out of bed and to the window. One peek has him curious; another peek has him tying a rope (something he brought from home, since he has the tendency to sneak out sometimes) to the bedpost. Now, he’s not one to make stupid decisions, but he kinda really wants to check out what’s happening in this kingdom’s local town. From his window, it looks like some festival, and well, he thinks he deserves to have some fun while he’s here. If anything, it’s more like rewarding himself for putting up with everyone’s bullshit today.

With a tug to test the rope’s strength (it’s good), he throws the rope outside, and without another thought, makes his way down it. Usually with his lack of good posture, he would fall, but this isn’t his first time sneaking out (he’s been sneaking out since he was sixteen), and truth be told, it won’t be his last. Unless he gets caught.

Luckily, no one catches him, so when his feet hit the ground, he takes off running while thanking every deity out there that this place has no walls surrounding its property. Guess that’s another good thing about this kingdom.

But enough with the royalty shit. Tonight, he’s going to be ordinary.


	4. Chapter 4

Levi Ackerman hasn’t always been alone. He had a best friend back when he was a kid. Every night, he would strip down and go looking for him, because his best friend had a tendency to lose himself in the clouds. Sometimes Levi would find him within a minute, and they would spend the next couple of hours talking amongst themselves. Other times he wouldn’t find him at all, and those nights would be lonely indeed. Now every night is spent in solitary. He had grown out of his best friend a long while ago – but he still keeps him locked away in his drawer.

It’s kind of pathetic actually. Normal people would have important documents stored in the most private compartment of their bedroom, but not him. Not Prince Levi Ackerman, age 25, engaged. What does he have in there? A fucking rubber duck. It was a gift and evidently, his most prized gift. Every evening, his personal maid would prepare his bubble bath and toss Sir Rubdub in. It was his job to find Sir Rubdub, and after that, he would talk to the damn smiling duck for three hours. That all changed at his tenth birthday when his parents invited several kingdoms over to celebrate him hitting the big double digits. He introduced Sir Rubdub to a few kids his age and well, let’s just say they were jealous, and Levi didn’t want them to steal Sir Rubdub, so he hid him in the drawer.

And now Sir Rubdub’s in the bathtub. Levi doesn’t know why he brought Sir Rubdub out, but here he is, bobbing at the surface of the water and smiling up at him as if saying ’ _it’s about time, you damn bastard_.’ Levi snorts at that thought but quickly turns it into a cough, because he’s 25, engaged, and cool as ice. He’s not going to stoop as low to talk to a rubber duck, all right.

’ _Get that stick out of your ass_.’

Shut the fuck up.

’ _Someone hasn’t gotten laid in a while_.’

As if getting laid’s going to help him with this arranged marriage bullshit.

Damn. He must be really fucking lonely if he’s making conversations with this dumb duck. Maybe that marriage is good for him after all –

Ha.

Ha ha.

 _No_.

He’s not ready to be tied down yet. He wants to go out there – travel the world – have the fun ordinary 25-year-olds should be having. He doesn’t want all this royal shit, and to get married? To produce an heir and to take throne? What is this, the 17th century?

’ _Well, technically_  –’

He doesn’t remember Sir Rubdub being Sir Asshat. Something definitely happened over the last fifteen years.

_‘But at least I’m still here to listen to your bitching.’_

Levi narrows his eyes at the smiling duck (it’s not even smiling; it just looks like it’s smiling and what the hell, that’s creepy as fuck). When the duck continues returning the stare, Levi grabs it and hurls it across the bathtub.

_'Bitch.’_

Dick.

_'You wish I was one.’_

This is getting ridiculous. Pressing his lips together and shutting his eyes, he dunks his head into the water. Baths used to be his thing. Nowadays, he just takes quick showers, but since today’s special, he figures a bath will help him cool down. It helps. Somewhat. When he finally steps out about a good hour or two later, he feels clean, but his head is still swimming with memories of the day’s past.

Princess Ellen is a dirty fraud. She’s the grime at the bottom of a drain, the stain on a perfectly white shirt, and the mold in a piece of bread that’s been sitting around for ten weeks. In other words, Levi doesn’t like her and will never like her. He’s sure that she’s a fine (filthy) young ( _too_  young) lady (tramp), but she’s not his type. And coupled with the idea that he’s being forced to marry her only makes the situation worse. He wouldn’t have minded as much if his parents set him up to court her, but that’s not what they did. They made the decision for him, and because of that, he can’t help but hate the entire situation.

He needs to get out.

He needs to breathe.

Holding that thought, Levi peeks out the window to see what’s going on in town, and after dressing down into his simplest clothes, he slips into the hallway. This isn’t his first time sneaking out, so he knows what route to take to avoid running into guards, but of course, as luck would have it, he runs into the one guarding the entrance to the garden. Erd quirks an eyebrow at him, and Levi knows he’s deep down in shit, but he doesn’t let that phase him. Putting a finger over his lips to signal Erd to keep his big mouth shut, Levi slides past him and into the garden.

As sly as he is, he’s been caught by Erd multiple times before. It’s nothing new. Except this time he’s actually engaged to marry someone, so he shouldn’t be in town fucking around. But whatever. This is just one night to destress himself.

He makes his way through the garden and out the gate that surrounds it. A good half hour later, he’s standing among the crowd that’s lined up on the side of a street. From where he’s at, he can’t exactly tell what’s happening, but there’s a lot of shouting and fire-breathing and well, how fortunate of him to stumble across a festival.

“What’s going on?” he asks an elderly woman who’s standing nearby and clapping along to one of the songs the crowd’s singing.

She turns to him, eyes wide and illuminated by the fire’s light. “Haven’t you heard, dear child? Our Prince is getting married!”

Oh. They’re celebrating his –  _oh_.

Gross.

“Why the celebration?” None of the townspeople know who he is, because he has never shown his face as prince. Call it personal preference or whatever, but he’d much rather be treated normally when he comes to town. Guess he’s not any better than Princess Ellen – hiding behind a mask and all.

“ _Why the celebration_?” the old lady echoes. “Why  _not_  the celebration? A young man like you should be celebrating the most. After all, now that the prince’s engaged, the ladies that have been waiting their entire life for him are free to court.” This woman reminds him of his mother. Tries too hard to be cool. He doesn’t like that kind of people.

The old lady, picking up on his sense of discontentment, offers him a soft smile. “It’s all right if you’re upset too, but don’t get yourself down. A handsome man like you will find his prince one day.”

Scratch what he said about her. This old lady is fucking awesome. If she understands, then why the hell can’t his parents?

“Now turn that frown upside down and sing with me!” Her body shakes with joy as she claps along with the crowd. Eventually, she gets him to crack a small smile despite the atrocity of this celebration. After seeing that subtle quirk in his expression, she hollers and starts pushing him through the crowd to the street where the main show’s at. “Go on, enjoy yourself, dear child!”

The little pushes did it; he’s up front, and from here, he can see everything: the crowd of people marching down the street adorned in silly hats and scarves, the half-naked folks yelling and dancing around with firetorches, and the children – the children cheering from the side as candy’s thrown their way. One hits him in the forehead, and though he’s very much offended that his height pegs him as a child, he brushes it off when he hears a loud “sorry!” coming from somewhere within the sea of people.

It’s amazing. While he’s cooped up in his bathtub pouting and bitching, his kingdom’s townspeople are out here celebrating. And they don’t even know him.

Maybe he should go back. Coming here isn’t a good idea – but fuck that. He’s here to let go. If he goes back, he’s going to lie awake in bed, thinking about the ugliness that’s hiding under Princess Ellen’s twenty layers of makeup.

So he nudges his way through the crowd to the tavern he always ends up going to every time he escape to town. He remembers the first time he stumbled in here. He was seventeen, a year shy of being able to legally drink. Of course, being as small and babyfaced as he was, the bartender told him to leave but the good men and women sitting around the bar welcomed him to stay. The bartender grungingly let him stick about, and an hour later, gave him some apple juice. That’s the only time anyone in this town was remotely rude to him, and even then, they weren’t even that rude.

That’s what he likes about the townspeople. They’re all relaxed. No one gets worked up over anything, and if they do, they settle it with shots. What’s hilarious is that he’s the royal one here. He has the gold and the visage, yet they’re happier than him. Why the hell is that? Right. Because none of them are arranged to marry.

He takes a seat at the bar. “Give me your strongest, Thomas.”

Thomas fills up a glass and slides it over. “Why the long face?”

“Just tired.” He takes a sip of the alcohol. It burns his throat in a familiar but not necessarily pleasant way; he’s not big on drinking unless there’s something to drink about. And well, the bullshit of today calls for something to drink about. He just needs the thoughts flushed out of his system for the night. That is all he wants.

 _That_  and the hot bod over there.

He’s been around here for a couple of years, but he has never seen this guy before. Huh. Maybe the kid just hit puberty and became a hot hoochie mama over the last few months. Whatever it is, he’s going to get a piece of that.

Eyes straying on this particular figure, he brings the glass to his mouth to take another sip. At the same time, the guy chooses to look his way. Their eyes meet – and Levi fucking chokes on his fucking drink like the fucking loser he is. God _damn_. Slamming his cup down, he turns away to cough into his arm. While this happens, Thomas is all up in his business trying to find out if he’s dying or not, and even though Levi squeaks out a “fine,” Thomas apparently misheard him, because he’s now patting Levi’s back with harsh taps. And when Levi finally –  _finally_  – regains his composure, he smacks the hand away.

Christ.

Look at him.

He’s so fucking smooth.

Great. Wonderful. Fantastic.

Cheeks beat red, he straightens himself up and glances over in the direction of that guy from before. Except that guy’s not there. Goddammit. He fucked up the one chance he had. He’s not getting dick tonight (not that he’s here for dick, mind you; as much as he hates the arranged marriage shit, he respects loyalty – to a certain extent).

“You all right?” Thomas asks.

“Fine.” He slips him a few bills before standing up and making his way out of the tavern. He doesn’t bother finishing off his drink, because he has embarrassed himself enough tonight, and if he takes another sip of that damn thing, he’s going to be running around naked. Wouldn’t  _that_  be a sight to see?

The celebration is still going on outside. Every window is lit, every door is open. People continue filling the night’s silence with their songs and laughter. Just listening to them makes him feel better. Watching them is a different story, though. In the distance, a small group crowds around one of the firedancers. Flames lick at the darkened sky from their show, and in turn, the people clap and cheer along.

He watches the dance for a while, but after some time, decides to find another attraction. There’s a pub up ahead, and though the chants coming from within tempt him, he stops at the doorstep. Is another drink really worth it? What would Sir Rubdub say?  _'Party hard, kid. Party hard.’_  Okay, no. He can find amusement somewhere else.

Mind set, he steps back and – his head hits something, and the next thing he knows, he’s sprawled on the ground on top of someone.

He has fallen.

Again.

This is the second goddamn time he’s fallen today, but at least he’s not the one being crushed underneath all that weight this time.

“Ow, God. What the fuck?” The guy under him starts nudging him off. “Watch where you’re going, you –” The word  _bastard_  trails off when their gazes meet.

And Levi would like to take this moment to thank his parents for bringing him into this world so he can make a fool out of himself in front of this hot bod and then later fall right on top of the same hot bod. What kind of coincidence is this? It’s like he’s in some cliché fanfiction.

“I – uh.” The guy hastily gets to his feet. “My bad. Sorry. I didn’t – I was in a rush. I’ll just. I’ll just go –”

“Wait.” Levi pushes himself up, and after minor adjustments to his clothes and complexion, he asks, “What’s your name?”

The guy’s eyes shift to the side, and from his jittery stance, it really does look like he’s in a rush. But Levi wants to know his name (so he’ll know what to moan when he’s committing sins later on tonight in the comforts of his own bed –  _just kidding_   ~~maybe~~ ).

“Uh, I don’t – have one?”

What.

“Shit, I mean, I have one, but I just –” The guy runs a hand through his dark locks and sighs. “It’s Eren. Look, I gotta go.” And without giving Levi a chance to introduce himself, the guy ushers past him and disappears into the crowd of people partying on the streets.

Well, then.

That’s a shame.

But at least he got a name to match a face.

 _Eren, huh_?


	5. Chapter 5

Eren came out to have a good time, and he is honestly feeling so attacked right now. He thought he could have one night –  _just one goddamn night_  – to himself, but the Nope Gods had to bring Prince Levi into the scenario to ruin what fun he could be having. It’s unfair. He came to this tavern thinking maybe he could drink his sorrows away and pass out in the middle of nowhere so some old lady could find him and take him in as her son – which would mean he wouldn’t have to go back to the dreadful hell of a marriage he’s in. Obviously, that plan didn’t work out, because everything’s unfair.

Actually, it  _could’ve_  worked out if he hadn’t caught the little asshole’s eyes from across the bar. Eren couldn’t fathom why Levi’s there in the first place, because Levi should be taking a bubble bath and playing with his rubber duck (an actual rubber duck, not a  _rubber duck_ , you sicko reader). But ha. Levi with a rubber duck. That’s an amusing thought – though besides the point. Point was, Levi had been eyeing him for some time (like two seconds), and Eren nearly crapped his pants.

Then, as fate would have it, Levi started coughing and sputtering and choking, and though Eren was very much inclined to stay for blackmailing purposes, he couldn’t. So he ran. And here’s the thing: he’s a bit weak with alcohol.  _Just a bit_. As in, he’s either going to puke or shit his pants. Whatever came out at whatever end didn’t matter, because it was all going to go flying in the wind, seeing how fast he’s running.

He ended up falling at one point, because some asshole wasn’t watching their step. Turned out, that asshole was indeed an asshole. It was as if the universe set up this entire scenario just so it could laugh at his misery, because  _Prince Levi_  was looking at him funny, and Eren knew – Eren just fucking knew – that he was caught. And then Levi asked for his name, and his dumbass self told Levi that he didn’t have a name. Wonderful answer. Couldn’t have said it any better. To save himself from further embarrassment, he told shortshit his name. His actual name. He could’ve told him “Bob” or “Jim” or something, but no. He told him “Eren.”

Then he ran away, because that’s all he’s good at.

Now he’s walking around town. Lost. Because he refuses to ask for directions. The castle’s up ahead, but the roads here twist and turn for some reason, so just when he thinks he’s walking down a straight path, the path goes  _nope_  and swerves. It’s like the gods are trying convey some sort of message to him.  _Ha ha, you think you’re straight? Think again!_  Fuck them. He’s like the pus – the p-pus .. vag-thing. Yeah. That. He likes that.

Okay, so maybe he hasn’t seen one, nevertheless courted someone with one, but the option’s still out there.

That aside, he needs to get back to the castle before Levi snitches. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get out of that shit. Maybe he should tell his parents and they can make a quick getaway – but then they’ll know he sneaked off to town. What’s worse: getting beheaded for lying or getting caught for sneaking out? Definitely getting caught, because getting beheaded means he’s  _fucked_ , and getting caught means he’s  _more than fucked_. So he’d much rather take it up the ass once and get it over with (and on a brighter note, he wouldn’t have to marry that douchecanoe).

Now he just has to suck it up and ask for directions. Otherwise, he’s not getting anywhere. Who should he ask? Who wouldn’t judge him?

Ah, yes, that old lady over there.

Perfect.

“Excuse me!” He touches her shoulder, and she jolts.

“ _Dear Heavens_ , you scared me.” Her chest heaves as she lets out a breath. “But it’s all right. I have a good heart. What can I help you with, young man?”

Scaring this lady gives him an idea of possibly scaring Levi to death. Maybe he can spontaneously show Levi that he doesn’t have a puss-thing, and Levi would going into such a state of shock that he would just pass out. It’s a funny thought, but unfortunately, not likely. Besides, Eren’s not willing to flash anyone. Yet. Not after that one time he accidentally flashed a princess at her birthday party, and she started crying because she thought he had a mini-corndog growing out of him. He was seven.

“Can you tell me how to get to the castle?”

Shit.

That’s a little too obvious.

“Why do you need to know? Thinking of courting the young princess?” She peers up at him with amusement twinkling in her eyes.

He wishes he could laugh, because the irony of this situation is hilarious. There’s no princess. There’s only him in an ugly wig and ten pounds of makeup. “No, uh –”

“Oh, so the prince? You’re the second young man I’ve met tonight who prefers princes.”

Uh. No, Lady. He likes the puss-puss. The only time he prefers the prince is when he is one.

Why does everyone and their mother think he’s not straight? Does he have something on his face? Is it because his spine’s slightly crooked? Excuse them. Excuse all of them. He’s as straight as his wig, thank you.

“I don’t – I just need directions.” Why does everything have to be so complicated? This ain’t no Avril Lavigne song.

“Why not stay around for the festival?”

Oh, maybe because it’s a festival celebrating his engagement, and he doesn’t like it when people are feeling so damn happy about it when he’s here suffering under the stupidity that is Prince Levi (he’s still not over that asshole calling him “hideous”).

“The pub’s giving out free drinks the entire night. Courtesy of the kingdom.”

Free drinks? Hell yeah!

Wait no. He needs to get back.

“Look, lady –  _ma'am_. Can you please tell me which road to take?” He’s trying to be nice here, but she’s just not cooperating with him. Why are old people always like this?

“It’s that way, dear.” She points to her right. “I hear the princess is breathtaking, so best of luck courting the prince.”

“ _I’m not_  – never mind. Thanks!” And off he goes.

See, this is why he doesn’t ask for directions. He doesn’t want to deal with people like this. But at least she called him breathtaking. Well, technically she called Princess Ellen breathtaking – but whatever. He’ll take that as a compliment, because the last time he got called anything, it was “hideous,” and he’d much rather be breathtaking than hideous.

Turns out, the lady’s worth something. He gets out of town and flees back to the castle where he climbs back up to his room and throws on the wig for safe measure. Usually it’s against custom for anyone to enter his room without knocking first, but he has the wig on just in case Levi decides to bring some guards over to take him out. Then again, once he’s caught, the wig wouldn’t matter.

Heart thundering against his chest in unsettled beats, he tucks the rope back into his suitcase and closes the window to seal off any evidence that he’s been out. After that, he jumps in his bed (oh, it’s comfortable) and buries himself underneath the covers. He can still taste the alcohol on his breath.

*

The following morning is hell for him. He hears a knock and a “his Majesty, the King invites you to breakfast” and he thinks  _oh shit_. He keeps thinking  _oh shit_  as his maids and butlers come in to help him get ready. Sometime later, he’s back in the ugly ass of a disguise, and this time his dress has a corset. Which means he won’t be able to breathe at all today. Truly breathtaking, indeed. He hates this damn dress the most, but unfortunately, it’s his mother’s favorite, and since he apparently made a bad impression yesterday, his mother wants him to showcase his slim frame (aka if he can’t win the prince over with his personality, he’ll win him over with his body).

Eren doesn’t know why this dress even exists, because obviously, he doesn’t have the breast to hold it up. Of course he has the razzle dazzle padding, but the padding is shit. He still looks flat.

But it works.

When he enters the breakfast room, he immediately feels the tingling sensation of someone checking him out. One glance over informs him that, yes, Levi is, in fact, looking him up and down. Eren has never felt more conscious, especially when he takes a seat next to Levi and adjusts himself at an angle so the pervert wouldn’t look over and see the padding stuffed underneath.

Breakfast starts with a toast to “our son and daughter.” Eren doesn’t know if toasting at breakfast is even a thing, but he goes along with it so he can have some ham (that shit’s good, okay?).

A few minutes into eating, the king clears his throat. “The four of us have noticed the disconnection between the two of you.”

 _Really_?

Eren thinks they get along  _fantastically_.

“So we’re proposing a few plans that will allow you both to spend quality time together.”

But  _why_? Can’t they see that he’s clearly head over heels for this damn bastard?  _Clearly_. What’s there to doubt.

“That’ll be unnecessary,” Levi says. “Ellen and I have bonded over the dance.”

 _Exactly_.

See, Levi understands their close connection.

The king’s lips quirk into a soft smile. “A notable attempt, but our judgement is final. Levi, you will be responsible for giving Princess Ellen a private and  _thorough_  tour of our kingdom. Make sure to show her the books in our library and the roses in our garden. Understood?”

Someone save him. He has to breathe the same air this asshole’s breathing for the next hour.

Levi clicks his tongue (isn’t he the rudest thing) and looks away.

“ _Understood_?” the king repeats, voice strained.

“Sure.”

As much as Eren hates him, he has to give Levi props for talking to his father in that manner. If Eren were to attempt anything like that, his father would smack the Jaeger out of him (as in, he would be disowned then and there).

“Good.”

Though the king says this, Eren doesn’t find it good at all. Levi knows his secret, so there’s really no point in putting on this act anymore. Unless Levi hasn’t told anyone – from the looks of it, no one’s giving him the evil eye, so his secret seems safe for now. But why hasn’t Levi told anyone? Is this some game to him?

“Are we finished?” Levi’s mother asks about ten minutes later. “I would like to show the Queen my flowers.” She is already on her feet, and though Eren wants to tell her to sit her ass down because he hasn’t finished eating, he saves himself the trouble and shoves the rest of the ham into his mouth. His father gives him a pointed look, but he ignores it. It’s the queen’s fault for rushing him in the first place.

Five minutes thereafter, they split: both of their parents head in the direction of the garden, while Levi leads him to the art hall.

But of course, along the way, they  _have_  to make conversation.

Conversation that makes him want to reach out and strangle the damn guy.

“Who are you trying to fool?” Levi asks, not being a bit subtle.

Eren just wants to crawl in a hole and stay there for the rest of his life.

“Your chest is as flat as your ass.”

Hold up.

 _Excuse_  him.

Eren can take the flat chest comment, but his ass is not flat. It is plump and full of life. Prince Levi is  _obviously_  blind if he can’t see the bootylicious globes that make up his ass.

Just. What the hell. Would it kill the fuckface to offer him one compliment? It’s not like Levi has that much of an ass either. Pfft.  _Please_.

“But you’re in luck.” Levi glances over his shoulder at him. “I prefer flat chests.”

 _God help him_ , Prince Charming has a small tits fetish.


	6. Chapter 6

“Look around, Ellen,” Levi says as he leads her into the art hall. “Look at all these big-ass paintings.”

 _Paintings_  that no one in the kingdom gives two shits about. They look nice, sure, but they only bought them because his mother wanted to flaunt their wealth by outbidding every other kingdom at the annual art auction (they went to just one, and at that one, they outbid everyone – it’s almost as embarrassing as that one time his mother tried buying a child because that child was cuter than him,  _excuse her_ ). Money and beauty. That’s all she cares about. That’s all she has ever cared about, which makes him wonder why the hell she’s making him marry this trash bag.

Princess Ellen is only expensive in her lies. Everything else about her is fake from her straight hair to her flat chest to her interests in these paintings. She looks at each one closely –  _inspects_  them with some foreign curiosity that Levi’s about to call bullshit on, because she’s looking at  _dots_. That’s it. Just dots. What the fuck’s so interesting about dots? Shouldn’t he be the main attraction here?

“Hey, Flatass.”

Okay, so maybe that’s uncalled for, because her ass isn’t  _that_  flat – but he’s trying to get her to hate him as much as possible so she can bail out of this wedding thing. Of course, that’s going to give him a reputation of being a bastard prince, but he can’t think of any other way to get out of this mess. Murder’s always an option; unfortunately, it’s quite frankly illegal and he doesn’t want to get his hands dirty. Running away is the more plausible course of action. Only problem is that he’d rather marry this dog and live a rich life than leave everything behind and sleep on straw beds while smelling horse shit all night long.

“You ready?” he asks her.

Ellen throws him a pointed look and gestures at the rest of the hall, indicating the areas they haven’t walked through yet.

“There’s nothing down there but paint splatters and more dots.” And maybe a really,  _really_  bad portrait of yours truly. 

The artist came on his eighteenth birthday per his mother’s request. Needless to say, he spent the majority of his birthday sitting on his ass and doing stupid shit to make the artist frustrated. It didn’t work. Months passed. The artist finished the portrait, and in light of Levi being a little bitch during the entire process, the artist drew him winking with his tongue sticking out. His mother adored the portrait. She said it was expressive. He said the artist could go fuck himself.

And Princess Ellen can also go fuck herself, because she throws him another look before walking down to that end of the art hall. Ha ha. No. He’s not letting her see that portrait.  _No one_  sees that portrait.

Ushering over, he grabs her arm. She tenses.

“There are books in the library.” That’s supposed to sound smarter than it came out.  _No shit_ , there are books in the library.

 _‘Way to go, dumbass_ , _’_  Sir Rubdub hoots all the way from his drawer.

Ellen yanks her arm away and turns around with a huff.

Wow.

She’s incredible.

An incredible  _brat_.

Her shoulders are still tight as she makes her way further down the hall. At this point, he’s not even sure if she’s just trying to get away from him (hopefully), or if she’s honestly curious about the artwork. Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter, because the moment she sees that goddamn thing, she yelps and covers her mouth quickly thereafter.

He knew it. He fucking knew it. This Princess Ellen isn’t mute at all. (Wait, aren’t yelps created by forcing air out? He should’ve paid more attention to his tutor.) But nevertheless, she’s caught, and she knows she’s caught, because she turns to him with her eyes blown wide.

“So are you going to talk now?” he asks, strolling ever so casually to her side so he can start nudging her away from that ugly portrait.

It’s not easy. She steps to the side and keeps the distance in-between them at a maximum. Then she glances from him to the portrait and back to him. Levi wants to disappear, especially –  _especially_  – when her body starts shaking with silent laughter. Great. Just great. Now his reputation is officially ruined.

Then again, he’s not the hideous one hiding under all that makeup, so if anything, he should be the one laughing here.

Except he’s not laughing.

*

Somehow, he manages to move her into the library, where again, she keeps her distance. He’s not complaining. Ugliness may be contagious.

While she browses (pretends to browse, whatever) the selection, Levi flops down in a chair and contemplates his life. He’s been in this royalty business for twenty-five years, and now he’s going to seal the deal for another twenty-five. He can’t wait until he becomes king so he can do whatever he wants. Like twerk on his parents’ grave and go back to sucking cock.

 _Just kidding_.

Maybe.

Sir Rubdub’s right. He hasn’t gotten laid in awhile, and from the looks of it, he’s not getting laid anytime soon. Not that that’s his only concern. There are more important matters like getting rid of this Princess Ellen – and perhaps going back to town to find that Eren he met last night. That hot bod had a bootylicious ass and probably some rock hard abs, and Levi knows he’s going straight (ha,  _straight_ ) to hell for having these thoughts.

But damn.

He needs to hop on that.

_'What if he likes the pussy?’_

Doesn’t matter, because Prince Levi Ackerman can be a real sex kitten in bed.

_'That’s so bad.’_

Why is he still talking to a fucking duck.

Okay, but really. He wants to meet this Eren again. Somehow. Someday.

But for now, he has to deal with this little shit of a fiancée.

She holds out a book to him, and with mild irritation, he takes it from her.  _How to be Healthy: A Guide for Constipated Individuals_ , the title reads. A wonderful book.

Wait.

“You need to use the bathroom?” he asks, abruptly standing and taking a step away just in case she decides to shit herself right then and there.

Ellen shakes her head and points at the book, then points at him.

“I don’t need to use the toilet.” What the hell is she saying? –  _Hold up_. “Are you calling  _me_ constipated?”

This bitch.

This bitch right here.

She’s about to get smacked. How dare she.

Him? Constipated?  _As if_.

Two can play this game.

He shoves the book into her chest and goes off into the shelves. Though art doesn’t strike his fancy, books do. He’s read at least half of the library – the other half is filled with books his mother bought but never read. And here’s one of her books:  _How to be Beautiful: A Book for the Ugly_. Smug as shit, Levi finds Ellen and shows her this particular book. In turn, she takes another novel from the shelf and pushes it in his face.  _The Princess and the Frog_.

Wow.

Levi skims the bookshelf for a moment before picking out yet another story.  _Beauty and the Beast_. “I’m the Beauty,” he clarifies when Ellen quirks an eyebrow.

Ellen scoffs and shows him  _Snow White and the Seven Dwarves_. She indicates that she’s Snow White and he’s Grumpy. He gives her  _Tarzan_  to shut her down.

Moments later, they walk out of library refusing to talk to each other.

He considers ending the tour there, but when they come across the other tour group ( _why this_ ), his mother asks him if they’re done. He tells her  _yes_ , but as always, his father calls bullshit, and he ends up dragging Ellen through the rest of the kingdom.

“This is the kitchen. We cook food here.”

“Here’s the sun room. It’s dustier than Merlin’s balls, because no one uses it.”

“No one uses the conference room either, since everyone agrees with us.”

“This is the study. If I’m in here, don’t talk to me.”

“And here’s a bathroom in case you need to take a shit.”

At this point, Ellen disappears into the bathroom for a while. Probably fixing her wig or something. Once she steps out, he shows her the last place: the garden. Of the many things their kingdom takes pride in, the garden ranks first. It stretches across the entire right side of the castle and holds most of the world’s finest flowers (juliet roses, lisianthus, gloriosa, just to name a few). Statues portraying birds in flight decorate the start and end of each path (there are seven), and in the garden’s center sits a large fountain with a sculpture of their first king overlooking its boundaries.

This was where their kings and queens got married.

This is where they’ll get married.

Such a pretty place for an ugly ceremony.

It’s a shame.

“Only members of the royal family are allowed here,” he says, turning to Ellen who has her nose covered. “What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head then draws back and sneezes. Gross. Even her sneeze sounds revolting. But then she sneezes again. And again.

“Hey, are you –” Before he can finish the question, she takes off running. In ordinary circumstances, he’d let her go, because hey, he’s bitch-free, but this isn’t exactly  _ordinary_.

He follows her all the way back to the bathroom where she slams the door in his face. And this – this is why he shouldn’t care for people. They always make it clear that they don’t need his help.

Five minutes or so later (he waited five minutes, it’s a miracle), she opens the door while holding a tissue up to her nose. He notes the difference immediately: her eyes are damp, her cheeks flushed. There’s probably snot in the tissue too. Disgusting.

“You all right?”

She nods.

It takes a moment for him to process her image and reaction, but once he does, he asks, “What, is our garden too beautiful for you?”

The look she gives him is unforgiving.

Okay, so  _obviously_  it’s not that.

Let’s try again.

“You’re allergic to flowers?”

She tilts her head side to side as if saying  _sort of_.

“Sensitive?”

A nod.

Isn’t being allergic and being sensitive the same thing? Ellen’s just as ridiculous as she looks.

His lips twitch. “Why didn’t you tell me?” This could’ve been avoided if her dumbass self stopped him from showing her the garden. So this is her fault. All her fault. “Go up to your room. I’ll call the nurse.”

 _This is too much work_.

She sniffs and nods again. After directing her to the guest bedroom, he goes off to find the nurse like he said he would.

God _damn_.

He’s not paid enough to deal with this shit. He’s really not –

Wait a second.

If Ellen’s allergic – sorry,  _sensitive_  – to flowers, then that means they can’t have the wedding in the garden as per tradition. Which means they might have to postpone the wedding. Or better yet, not have the wedding at all.

 _Holy shit_.

This is his ticket out of hell.


	7. Chapter 7

Okay, so Eren knew he was sensitive to pollen. He knew that ever since that time he tried offering a girl some flowers and ended up sneezing in her face (snot and everything, he was twelve). So his smartass self thought if he could get in a few sniffles, then he’d have a reason to excuse himself from this tour (because for the past hour, he’s been trying to figure out if Levi recognized him or not, and from his skillful observation, it looks like he is safe for now). But see, Eren didn’t expect to be attacked by the pollen army the moment he stepped into the garden. In other words, he didn’t expect the garden to be as big and flowery as Mother Nature’s ass.

It’s Levi’s fault for not warning him. It’s Levi’s fault that Eren’s cooped up in his bedroom with everyone (including the perpetrator himself) surrounding him. It’s also Levi’s fault when Levi gets scolded by the king – wait, that doesn’t even make sense, but who cares? It’s Levi’s fault.

And when everyone finally leaves, his mother stays behind.

“He’s an asshole.” That’s the first thing Eren tells her. “And he’s short.”

“I think he’s a nice young man. He brought the nurse here, didn’t he?”

Why are parents always like this? They can never find faults in everyone else’s children. Can’t his mother see that Levi is a literal human representation of the devil’s butthole?

Levi has too many flaws, and his biggest flaw is his weird undercut. It looks like the queen took a broken bowl, placed it on his head, cut his hair along the line, and then shaved everything underneath. He also has the most melodramatic eyes Eren has ever seen – they’re small and squinty, and he has like three eyelids or something. And let’s not talk about Levi’s nose, because in all honesty, if Levi lost his nose, no one would notice because everyone’s so damn focused on his half-assed bowl cut and trapezoid-looking eyes. Also Levi’s mouth has more crap than his asshole. He needs to Listerine that shit.

What else?

Well.

His fingers shouldn’t be that chubby (Eren noticed this when Levi handed him a book earlier). His shoulders shouldn’t be that broad. His chest shouldn’t be that firm. His booty shouldn’t be that fly – wait, what? No. Scratch that. Levi’s butt is flatter than Princess Ellen’s chest. Which is pretty flat without the padding.

The list can go on.

But of course, his mother’s like –

“ _Height is not important_.”

Then someone tell him why he’s wearing flats and Levi’s wearing high heel boots now.

“You’ll grow to like him.”

Eren gives her the most exaggerated form of his ’ _are you fucking kidding me right now_ ’ face and goes, “But  _mom_.”

“Don’t you  _but mom_  me." She reaches out, and he knows what’s coming, so he quickly leans away from her deathly pinching fingers. Pulling back with a sigh, she says, "I know this is difficult for you, but please try to cooperate. We’re doing our best too.”

She glances over to make sure the doors are sealed shut. Eren knows what this means as well.

Gossip.

 _Hell yeah_.

“The queen says he’s a bit shy with beautiful women, so that’s why he’s acting weird around you.”

Hold up. That’s not even gossip, because that’s the truth. Levi’s a weirdo. A  _rude_  weirdo.

“He called me hideous and said my butt was flat.”

She opens her mouth, closes it, then opens it again. "Well, you know boys will be boys,“ she says in the overly sweet motherly tone that every child has learned to hate.

Eren stares at her in disbelief.

 _Boys will be boys_? Prince Levi is like fucking fifty. And even if he were a kid, that still doesn’t give him permission to be a Grade A asshole. See, if Eren were to say something like that, he’d get his tongue scrubbed with a bar of soap (happened once, and  _never again_ ).

"How’s your nose?” she asks a moment later.

Eren sniffs. “Better.”

“Good. Now, get some rest so you’ll be up for lunch.”

 _Not if he can help it_.

*

Somehow he managed to fake illness through lunch, so he had the luxury of dining in bed. He was pulled out for dinner, though. It was all right. The king kept apologizing and hounding Levi for being so thoughtless. Levi ended up leaving the table abruptly, and at some point after that, Eren looked out his window and caught him sneaking off to town.

He considers following him, but the memory of last night’s wild run-in makes him sit his ass back down. He doesn’t want to risk it, even if he looks completely different in his Princess Ellen get up. Levi can’t be  _that_  stupid (even though he  _could_ ).

It’s boring, though. There’s absolutely nothing to do in this room. He can draw. Or jerk off. Or go into town and pray that he won’t run into Prince Asshole.

What are the odds of him actually running into that guy, though?

Probably bigger than he thinks.

The town’s huge but appears close-knitted. Chances are, someone would be able to point Levi in his direction. But why would Levi want to find him anyway? There’s no reason. Unless he’s trying to prove that Ellen and Eren are the same person. In that case, Eren’s pretty fucked.

So it’s settled.

He’s not going to town.

Ever.

*

He’s in town again. It’s been three days, and he swore he was going to go insane if he didn’t have anything to do, so he sneaked off to town.

There’s no celebration this time, but the townspeople are just as lively. A few folks perform here and there, and after dropping a few coins out of appreciation, he moves onto the next act. At one point, he goes into a pub and orders a fizzy drink (he can’t do alcohol – it tastes as bitter as Levi). Shortly thereafter, he wonders out and starts walking about because, well, what else is he supposed to do? Where’s all the fun around here? Granted, the fun’s probably in talking to other people or going to the nightclub, but he’s too hesitant to talk to anyone (in case someone  _somehow_  recognizes him – which is 100% impossible  _but still_ ). And he’s not into the clubbing thing.

Which makes him wonder how he got to the club, because one second he’s like  _haha no_ , and the next – well. Here he is.  _Whoops_.

He feels out of place. Everyone else is hanging around with a bottle of alcohol, and he’s here sipping soda. Maybe if he starts bobbing his head to the music, he’ll look more in place.

Or maybe not.

Two people walk on stage, and Eren’s gone with the wind. The girl is hot, and the guy is  _smoking_  (he’s straight, not blind). As the music gets progressively louder with the crowd’s cheer, the two performers begin doing – something. With the pole. And now they’re taking their clothes off. Surely they aren’t going to strip all the way down, right? This isn’t that kind of nightclub,  _right_? He’s too young and innocent for this. Even though he’s nineteen, he still hasn’t exactly seen –

Holy shit.

That’s a penis.

Eren’s not entirely sure what to do at this moment, because this is something he shouldn’t be seeing, and yet he can’t stop staring, because it’s just – a penis. Wow. He has never seen one aside from his own, and this guy’s ding dong is kinda. Uh. Big? Is that considered big? It’s bigger than his. Great. Now he’s feeling self-conscious. But at the very least, Eren Jr. (shut the fuck up, it’s better than calling his dick ‘Titan’ or something) is bigger than Levi’s Jr.

Then again, Levi probably has the biggest dick of all, because it consumes his entire personality. (Can someone be a dick and an asshole at the same time? Eren doesn’t know – but Levi’s definitely both.)

As for the girl – she’s uh.

She’s good.

[Her boobs are okay](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D44f7BewqNqA&t=ZDU5ZDYyNmU2Mzk1NjQ0YjhjZTkyNDMyMjBiNjRjYjFjM2VjMzgwMSxjb2I0OHFFdQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AkfJA-F_CwgE4OzLIusx5Jg&p=http%3A%2F%2Fkomlin.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F93723907482%2Fto-wed-and-behead-ch07&m=1).

All right, he needs to get out before he sees anything else, because this is too much for him to handle and –

There goes his panties – no, wait. There goes  _her_  panties.

YOOOOO _Oh shit_.

He doesn’t realize that he spat out his drink until the figure in front of him stops and slowly reaches up to wipe the soda from their cheek.

 _Shit shit shit_.

Eren can only watch in horror as the person looks at their hand and then at him, and if Eren’s fucked before, he’s definitely more than fucked now, because when the lights shine in his direction, he sees that this person is a man. But not only a man, oh no.

It’s Levi.

Of all people.

There must be some curse on him, because there’s a one in a million chance of him coming across Levi at this nightclub, yet Levi somehow managed to hit that one in a million chance.

Fantastic.

What an eventful night so far.

He’s seen a penis and a puss-puss, and now he’s standing here with a Levi who’s covered in the soda he accidentally spat out.

He’s going to get beheaded.

 _Goodbye, world_.


	8. Chapter 8

Levi didn’t come to town to go to the strip joint. Let’s just establish that first. He came here because it’s the only place in town he hadn’t been to, and since he couldn’t find Eren anywhere else, he thought maybe this strip joint’s his hang out. Levi doesn’t understand why it's this place of all places, but then he figures  _what if_  this hot bod is actually a stripper? It would explain 1) why he has never seen Eren around before, and 2) why Eren was in a rush the other night – he was late to work. It makes sense.

So that’s why he’s here at this club, watching two strippers slide up and down a pole. As alluring as they are, they’re not who he’s looking for. While the audience continues to hoot and holler at the two, Levi pushes his way through the crowd (everyone’s sweating and shit,  _gross_ ). At one point, he glances over at the stage and just so happens to catch the guy stripper’s eyes. The guy winks at him, and his mouth goes dry.

Why did the stripper wink at him?

Does that mean something?

Does it look like he has money on him? He doesn’t have anything but spare change for a drink or two. He can’t buy this guy.

But really, what is he supposed to do when someone winks at him? Wink back? He doesn’t know how to wink.

He’s only good at talking shit about people, so when he’s thrown under that flirtatious spotlight, he doesn’t exactly know how to react. He’s weak to hot bods and big dicks, all right?

It doesn’t matter anyway. The stripper’s looking elsewhere now, and though Levi kinda feels regretful for letting the chance pass by, he knows that doing nothing is better than doing something and looking like a dumbass. Sure, he can always put on that oh-so-charming act every princess adores, but that’s what the act’s for.  _The princesses_. It’s easier to appeal to them, because they don’t appeal to  _him_. But when it comes to princes – or any attractive man in general – he’s just .. not .. okay.

He’s still not okay.

Even though that wink happened a good minute ago, the after effects continue to linger. He hates when that happens. He’s supposed to be this calm, cool, and collected character, and now he’s here acting like a frustrated little school girl. And he’s twenty-fucking-five. If only Princess Ellen could see him now.  _Future husband and King_ , getting flustered over a goddamn stripper winking at him.

He’s not even sure if that wink was geared towards him.

But he’d like to think it was, because okay, the guy’s kind of  _all right_. Just all right. He’s not hot bombing like Eren. He’s got the body, of course, but his face isn’t structured as well. Too much cheekbones. Not enough jaw.

Maybe the guy wasn’t even winking. Maybe he has some weird eye twitching problem and –

“ _What the fuck_?”

Was that his voice?

Yes, it was.

Levi reaches up and touches his cheek. It’s a bit ..  _wet_  for some reason.

 _What the fuck_ , indeed.

Using the back of his hand to wipe away whatever substance landed on his face (please not  _that_ , dear Lord, not  _that_ ), he turns to the culprit. The club’s low lights are now flawed, because he can only make out the outline of this particular figure. It’s a man, that he can tell, and – shit, it’s a  _man_. What if it really is  _that_?

Gross.

 _Disgusting_.

He’s going to punch this guy.

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry, I just –”

He can barely hear the guy’s apologies over the pounding music, but when the lights shine in their direction, he finds it easier to hear for some reason.

“I didn’t mean to. I’m really sorry –”

Everything around them – the lights, the music, the crowd – disappears. He hears him. He sees him (and he sees that both of the guy’s hands are not in his pants, thank god).

And well.

Uh.

 _It’s Eren_.

Thank you, lights, for doing something right for once.

“Here, lemme help –" Eren reaches out to wipe off whatever splattered on Levi’s shirt, and when he pauses for a second, Levi takes advantage.

Grabbing onto Eren’s wrist, he turns and starts leading Eren out of the strip joint. There’s resistance but not enough to stop him from yanking Eren outside. The loud music soon fades into the background as Levi leads him away from the door, away from the people, and –

"Hey, can you loosen up your grip?”

He only holds on tighter.

“You’re cutting off my circulation,” Eren mutters before raising his voice to ask, “Where are you taking me?”

Levi answers that by stopping abruptly and turning around. Eren runs into him, and –  _wow, he’s close_. Maybe too close. He’s kinda wet too. And sticky?

“You made me spill my fizzy drink.” Eren steps back and wipes his arm along his shirt. “Now, can you let go of me?”

“My bad,” Levi says, though his fingers remain locked around Eren’s wrist. He’s not entirely sure what Eren asked of him just now, but it’s probably not important, right?

“Look, I –” Eren yanks himself loose. “– I gotta go.”

 _That’s the same thing he said last time_.

Levi minds Eren’s shifty eyes but figures it’s only out of embarrassment. After all, he’d be nervous too if  _he_  were caught in a strip joint. “Do you work there?” he asks before Eren could run away.

“What?”

“At the club.”

“ _Huh_?”

This guy’s a dumbass.

An attractive dumbass.

“Are you a stripper?”

That’s supposed to be a flattering question, but Eren’s giving him the weirdest look.

“I mean –” Levi glances elsewhere in futile attempts to restore faith in himself. “– You have the body for it, so I thought –”

Eren snorts (a sound Levi has never liked, because one time he laughed and snorted and everyone made fun of him, so he made it a point never to laugh and snort again – but Eren’s snort is sort of cute).

“I’m not a stripper.”

Oh.

What a shame.

He kind of wanted to see that booty.

“In that case –”

 _‘Act charming,’_  Sir Rubdub quacks.  _'You’re Prince Charming, remember?’_

“– can I drink you?”

Shit.

He did not just say that.

Unbelievable.

_'Nice going, Prince Fuck Up.’_

Redo, redo.

“Can I get you a drink? Another fizzy? To make up for the one you spilled on me – and yourself?”

Maybe he should’ve picked up sewing lessons so he could sew his mouth shut. This charming thing isn’t working. Not when Eren’s staring at him like that.

 _Yeah_.

He shouldn’t be allowed to flirt (if that’s even considered flirting).

It’s a miracle he’s not a virgin.

Eren clears his throat. “I can’t –”

“– But I insist.”

_'Just give up. You’re not getting his dick.’_

“Quack off.”

“What?”

Did he – say that out loud? He did.  _He fucking did_.

This is a mess, and Levi Ackerman is done. He’s never coming to town again. He’s never meeting Eren again. It’s just –  _quack off_. Of all thoughts he could have said out loud, he said that one.

This is all Sir Rubdub’s fault.

He shouldn’t have taken that demon out of his drawer.

“Drinks?” he asks again, knowing damn well he’s going to fuck up once more. But it’s just this one time. After tonight, he’s going to stay cooped up in his room until he gets a new look, because he’s sure as hell not coming back to town looking like the fool he made himself out to be. Maybe he can even get some tips from Princess Ellen, since she appears to know a lot about masking her face.

“I’ll pay.”

Eren’s eyes shift to the side again, then he sighs and agrees.

Levi feels like throwing a fucking ball after that, because despite this awkward conversation and his many failed attempts to be suave, Eren said “sure.”

*

They’re at the pub, ordering drinks when Eren taps him on the shoulder and tells him that he’s going to the toilets to wash his hands.

Levi doesn’t give two shits about relationships, but at that moment, when Eren expressed his desire to have clean hands, Levi fell in love.

He can imagine it now – the two of them together with the moonlight illuminating their quaint bedroom. They would share a glass of champagne while chatting idly of their hopes and dreams. After that, Eren would lean towards him, his face drawing closer and closer, and he would then say, “ _Hand me your broom_.” And Levi would be swept off his feet.

Daydreaming aside, it’s been five minutes. Shouldn’t Eren be done washing his hands by now?

Maybe he’s taking a shit.

(Or has it been ten minutes? The clock’s lying.)

He’s taking a  _really_  long shit, then.


	9. Chapter 9

Sir Rubdub may be a rubber duck, but he knows when the prince ain’t happy. He knows this because when the prince comes sneaking back into the room, he goes directly to the bath.  _Without him_. Now, Sir Rubdub ain’t upset about that, but – okay, he’s  _kind of_  upset about that. He has done so much for the prince, and this is his payback? No bath time for Sir Rubdub?

 _What a lil bitch_.

He has waited so long to feel the bubbles against his rubber wings again – but nope, no tub-tub time for the most faithful rubber duck anyone could have. He can’t believe it. He honestly can’t believe it.

Sir Rubdub has ninety-nine problems, and this lil bitch is all of them.

His life isn’t supposed to be like this. The manufacturer’s contract said he only had to work for three years, and then he’d be free to go. Well, that manufacturer’s contract is a lying piece of shit, because yes, he worked for three years, but then he was thrown into a prison for twenty-something  _more_  years. Now he’s back in that prison – and he swears to the Duck Lord if another spider crawls over him, he’s going to quack a bitch.

That  _bitch_  being the prince.

Sir Rubdub ain’t having this shit tonight, son. He ain’t doing this rubber ducking business anymore. He’s getting old and he needs to retire, but the prince simply  _insists_  on keeping him locked up in this drawer while his other duckie friends are out partying in the landfills. And yes, Sir Rubdub has friends. He was made with them, and they had all promised to meet again, but see, he has to break that promise because Prince Shortshit over here is keeping him captive.

There should be a law against this. What has he ever done to Levi? He’s been the best little toy duck. Hell, he stayed with Levi even when Levi tried to drown him one time ( _forgive but never forget_ , that’s his motto). That definitely says something. Not to mention, he gives Levi the greatest advice, and without his advice, Levi would be dead. It’s all thanks to him that the kingdom’s going to have another king. Well. Maybe thanks to him  _and_  that Princess Ellen person.

Now Sir Rubdub ain’t no stupid ho either. He knows this Princess Ellen is a fake, but here’s the thing –  _don’t tell Levi this_  – he hopes Princess Ellen stays around, because if Levi gets married off, then chances are, Levi’s going to throw him into the landfill and then he’ll  _finally_  be free.

Isn’t that the most wonderful thought?

Yes, yes, it is.

There’s one problem though: Levi is heels over head ( _head over heels_? he doesn’t know, he’s a fucking rubber duck for quack’s sake) for this peasant named Eren. And it just so happens that this Eren is the reason why Sir Rubdub’s not in the bathtub tonight.

He doesn’t like Eren.

He doesn’t like Eren at all, and he doesn’t give a damn that Levi’s been stood up by that low class hippie.

All he cares about is his freedom – or lack thereof.

 _Just kidding_.

As much as he wants to hate Levi, he can’t, because Levi’s been his owner for twenty years, and he has always taken the time to wash him after every bath. Besides, even though Levi’s holding him captive in an old drawer, an old drawer is a lot better than some smelly landfill. So he has to be thankful for that.

But mushy gushy aside, he’s not paid enough for this. All he’s supposed to do is swim in bathtubs. So someone  _please_  explain why the hell he’s consoling this poor bastard.

“Forget him,” he tells Levi. “His hands are probably dirty from climbing out of that restroom window anyway.”

Levi looks over at him (doesn’t really see him, because he’s in a goddamn drawer) and says,  _‘It’s because I’m short, isn’t it?’_

He’s going to blow his rubber beak off. 

Levi always does this. He always ignores him. What’s the point of giving some heartfelt consolation when the one being consoled doesn’t want to be consoled?

But it’s fine.

Levi can drown in his self-pity.

Sir Rubdub don’t care.

Sir Rubdub has better things to do.

Like sit here and collect dust.

“If it makes you feel better, you’re taller than all my friends.”

_'You only have rubber duck friends.’_

“At least I have friends.” Wham bam.  _Apply ice to that burn, bitch_.

_'Shut up.’_

“Make me.”

Levi doesn’t reply.

Great.

Levi’s dead.

Now he’s really done it. How’s he going to explain this to the queen? She’s been waiting so long for an heir, and now that heir is dead.

_'I haven’t told anyone.’_

Damn, just kidding. That lil bitch ain’t dead yet.

_'No one knows.’_

“Hey, hey, I know.”

Actually, he’s known that Levi’s a straight up homo for a while. He’s probably the only one that knows. That’s pretty sad. To make matters worse, Levi’s about to get married to someone who’s not homo. Which means Levi has to do the quick quack with a not homo.

He feels for Levi. He really does, because when Levi’s sad, angry, and misunderstood, then Sir Rubdub’s also sad, angry, and misunderstood.

_'I don’t know what to do.’_

“What do you mean you don’t know what to do? You can tell them and cancel the wedding. Then you can go court that pretty boy.”

_'I have a duty.’_

“Haha, you said duty.”

Levi glares at him.  _'Look here, you little shit.’_

“Okay, all right. Calm down, geez. I’m just an underpaid quacker here, so cut me some slack." 

They’re both too old for this. Levi’s like twenty-five, and he’s like ten thousand in duck years. He could be having grandbaby ducks by now, but nope, he’s stuck here, giving this little squirt advice.

"Listen, it’s your life. Do what your heart tells you to do.”

_'My heart’s telling me to set you on fire.’_

“I take that back. Don’t do what your heart tells you to do. Do what I tell you, and I’m telling you to stop hiding. Tell yo kids, tell yo wife.”

_'Some serious advice will help.’_

“You want serious advice?” That’s a first. “Well, okay. Listen up. I’m only saying this once –  _do what you have to do_. Take it or leave it. Like I said, it’s your life, kid. So what if you have a duty? There’s no law saying you have to marry and produce an heir or any of that bullshit. Sure, you’re going to disappoint your parents, but if you don’t make things right, you’re going to disappoint yourself. You’re going to be unhappy, and the kingdom can’t have an unhappy king, so stop being a lil bitch and start being yourself, got it?”

There.

Serious advice.

Who knew a duck could give that talk?

Apparently not Levi, because Levi’s not responding – but that’s all right. Levi’s not dead. He has another hundred years to live, and in those hundred years, he’s going to make things right. He’s strong. He’s going to get through this. Sir Rubdub believes in him.

Now, that aside.

Someone give Sir Rubdub a raise.

He’s putting up with too much dumb shit for one bath per week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as some of you may know, i've dipped out of the snk fandom so i won't be writing any more new fics. the ones i'm posting have been previously published on tumblr @ komlin & i thought it would be nice to post them here, all in one place. i thank you all for your support through my snk writing journey!


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